Finding the perfect nanny can feel damn near impossible. Do they have solid references? Can they connect with the kids? Will they understand our family’s rules and respect them? That’s why, when my ex-husband walked through the door in disguise as an elderly Swedish woman named Irma Nincompoop, I was thrilled. Here was someone who was up to speed on my kids, desperately wanted the work, and perfectly fit my budget.
But is it possible I jumped the gun? Because as much as I’ve enjoyed rekindling my relationship with my ex on the sly, I’m starting to worry if our nanny isn’t actually him. And if that’s the case, then what the hell was that romantic night where we practiced dance moves for my brother’s wedding all about? Am I falling back in love with my ex-husband in disguise, or about to have sex with a 70 year old (possibly illegal) immigrant?
The chemistry was undeniable from the start.
Sure, she seemed like an arthritic septuagenarian who was constantly complaining about what the weather did to her joints. But I could see there was something else behind her eyes. My ex, Billy, had been a struggling actor for years (it was part of the reason we broke up), but I knew he had talent. This was surely his greatest performance, and I was proud of him for it.
The more he (or … she?) was around the house, the closer we got. We laughed together, I confided my fears in her, and we shared a number of what I thought were stolen glances pregnant with illicit meaning. Night after night, we would curl up on the couch, her smelling of Bengay and Kirkland coffee, just holding each other. It was electric. I wanted her, or him, or whatever. When would he finally reveal his secret so we could just do it already?
However, I began to have my doubts.
For one, Billy has been calling a lot while Irma’s been in the room. Which is odd. Then, he told me he didn’t want to get back together when I FaceTimed him in tears the other night. Also strange. Oh, and I’m pretty sure I saw them both in the same Rite-Aid that one time.
This also begs the question: What the hell was going on the night we had Gary, my new boyfriend, over for dinner? I thought Billy was just having a little fun, but maybe it was Irma—now deeply in love with me—trying to poison him. He spent a week in the hospital.
Also, I think Irma’s married?
I think she has grandkids. Oh boy, have I been leading on a woman old enough to be my grandmother? And, now that I’m thinking about it, we did furiously make out that one night after she hinted she wanted to leave her husband for me. I may have really misplayed my hand here. Also, so am I like, a lesbian now? What is this?
At the end of the day, I guess the heart wants what it wants. Whether this is Billy or Irma, or I’m just going to say maybe Gary is in disguise, I think I owe it to myself to give it a chance. Either way, I’m definitely losing custody of the kids, aren’t I?
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